On Singing

Following on from Alan Davey's comments on singing here the following comments by Peter Enns in his excellent NIVAC commentary on Exodus seemed worth posting, as grist to the mill.

Singing has universal appeal. The Creator made us that way. We sing for different reasons. Sometimes we are happy, other times miserable. Sometimes we know why we sing, other times it just comes out. We sing to remember good times and to take our minds off bad times. Singing changes our moods as well as simply reflecting them. What we sing can have a tremendous influence in how we subsequently think or behave. Song can enter portals of our being that prose and logic cannot. The capacity to sing and to react to song is part of the human experience, so much so that without it, we would truly be less than human.

Singing is such a characteristically human trait because it is divine as well. I do not know whether God sings, but he has certainly woven song into the fabric of creation. It is a means not only of reflecting or changing our moods, but it is also a means by which we "connect" with God, or to put it in more traditional language, it is a means by which we worship God. We do not have an "order of worship" anywhere in the Bible, although there are sufficient clues as to the types of things that probably went on in both Old and New Testament worship. But by God's good will, we do have a fairly extensive record of one thing they most certainly did: singing. The Bible records a lot of singing; there is even an entire book devoted to the subject (Psalms).

What we see in Exodus 15, and the other songs discussed above, is worship, pure and simple. Most Christians I know, including myself, find worship to be a frustratingly elusive thing. It is something we know we are supposed to do, but often we just can't seem to get a handle on it. It is something we are supposed to feel like doing, but, to be honest, we would often rather be off doing something else. But this is where these songs can help us.

Although neither I nor anyone else can prove the point, I do not think that the songs of the Old Testament were spontaneous outpourings of worship quickly jotted down and then preserved in a glass jar for future ggenerations to gawk at. They are rather models for worship. They were written down precisely so that they could be pondered, studied, and reflected one and not just for ancient Israelites, but for those who live in the light of the resurrection of God's Son. They are not trophies on a mantel but inspired examples, not so much because they have to be followed word for word, but because they give us a glimpse of who God is and, therefore, what our proper stance toward him should be.

One thing that strikes me about the biblical songs we have discussed is the lack of focus on oneself. And any attention that is paid to the one uttering the song (as in the case of Mary's song) quickly recedes into the background to let the true focus of the song come through-praise to the Lord. Songs in Scripture are about what God has done for his people. Although many psalms offer praise to God for more "abstract" things (though that is hardly a fair characterization), such as his creation, this is not the case for the songs examined here. They are songs filled with thanksgiving, gratitude, awe, and power because God has shown himself to be mighty in some situation, and his might is to be recognized throughout all the earth. To put it another way, these songs are thoroughly theocentric. Our worship of God in song should be equally theocentric and, ever since Easter morning, Christocentric as well.

I resist with all my heart making simplistic, blanket statements, but the biblical model for "hymnic worship," as we may call it, should cause us to think long and hard about the state of music in the church today. Different kinds of music reflect different personalities and create different kinds of moods, and it is a hopeless task to get any ten people to agree on what kinds are and are not appropriate for worship. My point here, however, has little to do with the musical dimension, but with the content of the songs.

Does worship really happen when stanza after stanza of a hymn or other type of song focuses on the personal status of the worshiper rather than the nature, character, and acts of God? I have become more sensitive to this over the years. When I hear myself singing "I," "me," or "we" too often, I begin thinking that our emphasis at that moment is misplaced. I am not suggesting that songs in worship should make no reference to the worshiper. I am simply suggesting that we remain in an "analytical" (but not judgmental) mode in order better to discern what is right and what is wrong in how we worship God.

At the risk of getting too specific, allow me to provide an example.

Jesus, we just want to thank You (3x)
Thank You for being so good.

Jesus, we just want to praise You (3x)
Praise you for being so good.

Jesus, we just want to tell You (3x)
We love You for being so good.

Savior, we just want to serve You (3x)
Serve You for being so good.

Jesus, we know you are coming (3x)
Take us to live in Your home.

The point here is not the quality of the music or the question of whether repetition is an aid or hindrance to worship. (It could be both. Ps. 119, for example, is very repetitive.) Nor am I addressing whether such a song would be profitable in a setting other than a worshipful one. But the focus of this song is clear: It is on the worshipers, on what we are doing (thanking, praising, telling, serving, knowing). Again, this is not to say that there should be no mention of the worshiper. That would be equally ridiculous. Even the Song at the Sea begins, "I will sing to the LORD." The difference, however, is that this biblical song shifts quickly to the object of praise, God, rather than lingering on the one giving the praise. I am not saying the above song is not appropriate for worship and should be excluded from the hymnal. Still, when I look at the songs of old-not just the hymns of recent centuries, but of the Old Testament-I cannot help but wonder if we could do better.

There is another aspect of this hymn that stands in stark contrast to the biblical examples. It is, for all intents and purposes, devoid of any specific content. Why is Jesus good? Is such a basis for praise too vague? Another example will make the point even clearer.

Jesus is the sweetest name I know,
And He's just the same as His lovely name,
And that's the reason I love Him so;
Oh, Jesus is the sweetest name I know.

Again, I am not saying that such songs should not be sung, but it does raise some questions. Why is Jesus' name so "sweet"? And just what is a "sweet name? I am not calling for a full-blown, Latin oration every time we open our mouths in song. Different levels of content are appropriate for different Christians. It is a matter of wisdom rather than applying black-and-white categories that will contribute to the discussion. But when I think of how praise is offered to God in the Bible, there is more meat to them. Skimming the biblical songs we have looked at above shows the types of things God is praised for: his universal rule, power, eternality, incomparability, love, faithfulness to his people, and coming universal recognition.

It is not too much, I am sure, to expect the church's worship of God to be thoughtful, biblical and awe-inspiring. Our natural tendency throughout the week is to focus on ourselves. This should not be the case for Christians when we gather together in order to worship God; rather, we should make a decided effort to turn from ourselves and toward him who is truly worthy not just of our attention but of our adoration. It is perhaps in this context that we can come to a deeper understanding of passages such as Colossians 3:16: "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God."

The "word of Christ," which we can safely equate with Scripture, is to dwell in us richly, not only as we teach and admonish each other, but as we sing to God "with gratitude" in our hearts. We show this gratitude by making the focus of our singing the nature and work of God in calling us to be his own. We need constant reminders of who God is and what he has done. What we sing should, like the biblical examples, reflect these things.

This is all the more true in light of our high calling in Christ. We participate in an act of God that is far greater than the Exodus, for it is God's climactic act of deliverance. Focusing our attention in worship relentlessly on God is not mundane nor tedious. Rather, it places the focus where it ought to be. This is the great "content" that is the acceptable form of worship for the church, not only in its teaching, preaching, and missions statements, but also in its music. We do not sing in worship to reflect our moods any more than our sermons and Sunday school lessons should reflect our pet theories on the gospel. Rather, quite bluntly, we sing in an effort to take us away from what we think and draw us toward what we ought to think, feel, experience. We sing to create a mood more than to reflect one.

This is why the content of what we sing is so vital. Our songs are, like the songs of the Bible, reminders of who God is and what he has done. This is not to say that only one type of song fits this description; for example, the ‘classic’ hymns of the church. To argue as I have done is not to close off discussion on the subject because the issue is now settled. Rather, the discussion can truly be opened when we have all agreed at the outset that, like the biblical examples, who we sing to and what we sing about is a matter worthy of constant reflection and spiritual energy.

Peter Enns, Exodus (NIVAC), pp.314-317

I wear your ring

with memory strong
and clear;
stronger than a link
with your past,
my present
holds your life and love.

I wash my hands
and feel it there;
it sometimes seems that I am you
and that you are still.
I raise my hand
with silent shock
at the sight of your finger;
I am not you and yet
you remain
in memory and chromosome
and intangible touch.

I take and eat
the bread and wine
given by Another,
tasting and touching
beyond time,
memories brought to birth
of life before my own.
Tasting love, touching grace;
a life and grief
observed, redeemed.

I wear your ring;
I bear his name.

Images of God, Reality of God (Volf)

There is God. And there are images of God. And some people don't see any difference between the two.

A capable, good-hearted, and devout servant by the name of Felicite from Gustave Flaubert's "A Simple Heart" fell prey to this confusion between God and God's images. She was alone and unappreciated, and her parrot Loulou became "almost like a son, a lover to her", so much so that, when he died, she had him stuffed. Soon the gospel's image of the Holy Spirit as a dove began to merge with her stuffed parrot, and she fell "into the idolatrous habit of saying her prayers on her knees in front of the parrot". Finally, Flaubert wrote, as she breathed her last, "she thought she saw, as the heavens opened, a gigantic parrot hovering over her head."' Abandoned by others, she transferred her love to the parrot, transforming it into a god. An earthly image morphed into a divine reality.

Most people who fuse God's image and God's reality aren't nearly so naive. Some, like great critics of religion, argue that God is simply a projection of human ideals onto a heavenly screen; that God is, as Karl Marx thought, a reflection of the human need to be consoled in misery and to cope with weakness. For them, God doesn't exist as a reality independent of human beings. "God" is the name that the foolish, the miserable, and the weak give to what is nothing more than a useful figment of human imagination.

I will leave these critics aside here, and instead focus on what is perhaps the most troubling confusion between God's reality and God's image, which falls somewhere between the naive Felicite and the shrewd Marx. It's believers who fall prey to this confusion. We don't see them kneeling before parrots. Neither do they trumpet, "God is a human projection." They don't brazenly say, "God doesn't exist; only images of God do." To the contrary, they piously affirm, "God is a reality independent of our minds" and "God is nothing like a parrot, or any other creature."

And yet they worship idols without even knowing it. Unlike Felicite's parrot, their gods are not made of the hard matter of this world and don't sit elevated on sacred pedestals. Instead, they dwell in their worshipers' minds and are made of the soft stuff of their own cherished ideas. They simply assume that who they believe God to be and who God truly is are one and the same. God is as large (or as small) as they make the Infinite One to be, and none of the beliefs they entertain about God could possibly be wrong.

But in fact, our images of God are rather different from God's reality. We are finite beings, and God is infinitely greater than any thoughts we can contain about divine reality in our wondrous but tiny minds. We are sinful beings, and God is different from what we conceive in our selfishness and pride. Finite and self-centered as we are, we often forget God's warning through the prophet Isaiah: "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts" (55:9). When we forget that, we unwittingly reduce God's ways to our ways and God's thoughts to our thoughts. Our hearts become factories of idols in which we fashion and refashion God to fit our needs and desires.

Yet the most powerful and seductive images of God are not the ones we craft in the privacy of our hearts. They are the ones that seep into our minds as we watch TV, read books, go shopping at the mall, or socialize with our neighbors. Slowly and imperceptibly, the one true God begins acquiring the features of the gods of this world. For instance, our God simply gratifies our desires rather than reshaping them in accordance with the beauty of God's own character. Our God then kills enemies rather than dying on their behalf as God did in Jesus Christ. To use Flaubert's metaphor, the dove of the Spirit becomes the parrot whose plumage bears a striking resemblance to our culture's values.

To worship God rather than idols of our own making, we must allow God to break apart the idols we create, through the Spirit's relentless and intimate work within our lives. First, we need to know where to look for knowledge of the true God. It would be a mistake to seek that knowledge primarily in the world around us. God is not an object in this world. There's no map that says "X marks the spot." Whatever we find in the world will be ... the world, and not God. Neither can we find God in the infinity that lies beyond the cosmos. God is not an unnamed something on the other side of the temporal and spatial edges of the universe. Rather, as Christians, we find God in Jesus Christ, God's Word incarnate as witnessed in the Scriptures, God's written word.

It's not enough, however, to know where to look for God. We also need eyes and ears that can recognize the true knowledge of God when we come across it. For it could be that even as we look at Jesus Christ and read Scripture, as the prophet Isaiah put it, we "keep listening, but do not comprehend" and "keep looking, but do not understand" (6:9). Think of people who observed Jesus teach and heal and embody the life of God - and they saw nothing but a "false prophet" or a "political rebel". Our eyes and ears need a heart ready to receive the truth of God's reality rather than one that longs for the comforts of false gods.

Finally, even when we look in the right places with a ready heart, we still might miss the one true God. We need to be willing to let our very effort to know God slide out of our hands, opening them to God's continued and unexpected self-revelation. Otherwise, like the dog from Aesop's fable, we may end up dropping the real piece of meat in order to grab its reflection in the water.

(Miroslav Volf, Free Of Charge, pp.21-23)

How to Know the Truth

Jesus' words in John 8:31,32 seem to speak of an epistemology of faith and obedience:

If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. (TNIV)

Knowing the truth is consequent to holding to his teaching, honouring him with our faith and obeying him as his disciples. Even if the kai in v.32 is simply translated as 'and' and not 'then', there still seems to be a progression in what he is saying, that knowing follows the doing of faith and obedience.

Of course, we ought to expect just this in the light of the wisdom of the Book of Proverbs, that

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge (Prov. 1:7a)

A genuine reverence for the LORD which results in changed thoughts and actions is the precondition for knowing - truly knowing.

The implications of this must surely be significant, both pastorally and evangelistically.

More

wise words from Peter Enns:

It remains an inescapable fact that our world today is no more receptive to God's will than the Egypt of Pharaoh's day. Our reaction to opposition should not be outrage, as if we are the ones offended, or surprise, as if American hearts are somehow less rebellious toward God. Rather, our reaction should be one of godliness and patience, knowing that the message belongs to the Lord and he will set things aright. We must rise above the fray, the plans and schemes of humanity, with a godly confidence that comes only from knowing God and being known by him. (Exodus, NIVAC p.167f)

The LORD is Righteous

Is God's righteousness an ethical quality or his faithfulness to his covenant? That question is at the heart of a considerable debate. Without wishing to engage that debate in all its contours, it strikes me that Psalm 129 is of some merit.


The psalm laments the fact in vv.1-3 that, since their youth, Israel has been persecuted by the nations. Yet, as v.4 makes plain, they have not been abandoned:

But the LORD is righteous;
he has cut me free from the cords of the wicked.

Notice that it is YHWH who is declared to be righteous and that in the context of rescuing his people, Israel. Whilst the term 'covenant' fails to put in an appearance here, the whole context is so clearly covenantal. And YHWH's righteousness is seen in his acting to rescue his people as the outworking of that covenant.

Is he also being ethically righteous in rescuing the oppressed? Without doubt; but the emphasis, in terms of salvation-history, is on covenant faithfulness. Righteous is what righteous does - and YHWH in righeousness delivers his own, for the sake of the world.

Checking Out; Cheering On

There are passages in Acts dealing with the early church sending various people into other situations that are worth comparing.

In Acts 8 we learn that

When the apostles in Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God, they sent Peter and John to Samaria.

Presumably this sending was in order to authenticate the work going on in Samaria, to give this expansion the apostolic imprimatur. Then, in Acts 11, when the gospel is breaking new ground among the Greeks in Antioch we learn that

News of this reached the ears of the church in Jerusalem, and they sent Barnabas to Antioch.

Why send Barnabus? Not to authenticate the work but to encourage the church. For

He was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and faith, and a great number of people were brought to the Lord.

What great vision the church in Jerusalem showed at this point. Having worked-through the reality that the Lord was indeed saving Gentiles (notice how this follows so closely the incident with Peter and Cornelius and the church's consideration of that) they felt no need to send people to check out the work but rather chose someone they knew would cheer on those involved in it.

No doubt there is much for us all to learn from their example.

Wise words

Commenting on the interplay of divine sovereignty and human responsibility in Exodus 4:18ff, Peter Enns makes the following salient points:

(1) We must remember that election, or sovereignty, is never an abstract notion. Common arguments against election that I have heard include, 'I guess God predestined what kind of tie I would put on today,' or, 'Are you trying to tell me that God predestined that crack in the sidewalk and that I would trip over that crack!?' As the old joke goes: What did the Calvinist say after he fell down the stairs? 'I'm glad that's over with!' Of course, most of these objections are not meant to be taken wholly seriously, but the basic thrust remains: How does God's sovereignty actually, practically, play out in the details of our lives?

This is a question that the Bible does not address. The Bible is not concerned to reveal fully the mysteries of God's dealings with his creation. The notion of God's sovereignty in the Bible is always connected specifically to one issue: the deliverance of God's people. Although this raises a host of other concerns (e.g., are we saved by God's choice without any input on our own?), understanding the salvation context of sovereignty at least puts us on the proper starting point for discussing the issue and how it might affect our lives. Burdening our hearts and minds with abstract implications of sovereignty, something the Bible itself does not entertain, will unnecessarily detract us from the focus the Bible gives to the issue.

(2) However uncomfortable we all feel from time to time with election and its implications, we must remember that the biblical writers do not seem to share that feeling of discomfort. Though the issue is mysterious, it is not presented as a burden in the Bible. This is not to say that it is easily accepted. Paul's protracted argument in Romans 9 may indicate that not only his readers but perhaps Paul himself felt the need to engage the issue more closely. For Paul, the end result of any such internal struggle with sovereignty results in praise (11:33-36). For Job, it ends in humility (Job 42:1-6). Sovereignty is a blessing rather than a hindrance. I am not saying that understanding how sovereignty works is a blessing, but that it is a blessing regardless of how little we understand.

The Lord holds us in his arms. He is the truly loving Father who cares for us, his children in Christ. Can we really hope for anything better than this? What recourse do we have? Partial sovereignty? It is good to be under the Lord's care. What such an understanding of sovereignty engenders in us is actually a sense of freedom, the knowledge that we are God's children and that we are somehow under his sovereign gaze - no matter what. Sovereignty means that in our everyday lives, we can go forth and act boldly without fear that our constant missteps or imperfections will catch the Lord by surprise and tear us away from him.

(3) However much we try to make sense of sovereignty and incorporate it into our theological systems (as I have just tried to do!), we must remember that it is ultimately a great and humbling mystery. To understand how it works is to peer into the heart of God. I remember so little of my college years, which is no one's fault but my own, but one conversation stands out in my mind. An older classmate and I were discussing the issue of sovereignty and free will and I said, "At the very least we have to accept the basic notion that either one or the other is true. Both cannot be right." My wiser friend responded, "Why?" I blurted out a comment or two about God needing to be logically consistent, or something like that, but that response seemed as shallow then as it does now. We should not forget the tension that Exodus and other portions of Scripture set up. We should not assume that God conforms to our ways of thinking.

Is this not a recurring theme in the Bible that God's ways are not our ways? Perhaps part of the value of the tension between predestination and free will is not found in solving the problem, as if it is a riddle God put in Scripture to occupy our intellectual energy, but in our standing back in awe of a God who is so much greater than we can understand. The hope is that we would go forth with this knowledge (or better, lack of knowledge) and live humble lives, trusting in the Lord all the more because of the depth of the riches of his wisdom and knowledge.
(Peter Enns, Exodus, NIVAC, p.148f)

So who's to blame?

When Israel sent 12 leaders to spy out the land, 2 brought back a favourable report; 10 did not. The upshot was that Israel refused to try to enter the land and incurred God's wrath. So who was to blame?

Clearly, the 10 who talked up the issues involved with entering the land and making it their own -

But the men who had gone up with him said, "We can't attack those people; they are stronger than we are." And they spread among the Israelites a bad report about the land they had explored. They said, "The land we explored devours those living in it. All the people we saw there are of great size. We saw the Nephilim there (the descendants of Anak come from the Nephilim). We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and we looked the same to them. (Numbers 13:31ff; TNIV)

Leaders within the church have a solemn duty to exercise faith and to encourage faith in others. It is so easy to discourage, to dampen and to damage. And it is no refuge to say 'I'm a natural pessimist and it's just how I am'; unbelief needs to be named for what it is.

But the account in Deuteronomy shows that the people as a whole were also at fault for listening to the bad report and refusing to act on the advice of Joshua and Caleb, for failing to believe God:

But you were unwilling to go up; you rebelled against the command of the LORD your God. You grumbled in your tents and said, "The LORD hates us; so he brought us out of Egypt to deliver us into the hands of the Amorites to destroy us. Where can we go? Our brothers have made our hearts melt in fear. They say, 'The people are stronger and taller than we are; the cities are large, with walls up to the sky. We even saw the Anakites there.' " (Deuteronomy 1:26ff; TNIV)

Interestingly, it had been their idea in the first place to send the spies, a suggestion that Moses recognised as God-given (cf. Dt. 1:22f & Num 13:1). But, sadly, that doesn't guarantee a faithful response.

The community needs to evaluate what it hears and follow advice that is both wise and faithful.

Mid-stream

Psalm 78 is a recital of the history of Israel and their yo-yo relationship with YHWH. Some days they were up, some days they were down; and when they were down, they were almost out. Their obedience was flimsy and their love vapid. Yet the Lord persevered with them, alternately disciplining them through their enemies then rescuing them from their enemies.

The psalm ends on a positive note:

He chose David his servant...to be the shepherd of his people Jacob...And David shepherded them with integrity of heart; with skilful hands he led them. (v.71f; TNIV)

So, all's well that ends well. Except it doesn't. The psalm only goes so far; it cuts off the history mid-stream. Knowing the rest of the story makes for depressing reading: even David was mired in sin and shame. Is there no answer? Is there no deliverer? Is the story destined to always remain the same? Is there no hope?

Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Rom. 7:25 TNIV)

Pharaoh's daughter

Commenting on the role played by Pharaoh's daughter in the raising and forming of Moses (and, so, in the redemption of Israel) Peter Enns writes,

What is our proper posture toward an unbeliever? There is more than one biblical model. The model of "opposition" is certainly well known and has ample biblical precedent. This model, however, is not deserving of universal application. We share with others the love of Christ, who was a friend to sinners. In doing so, we bring the good news to them in many different ways, which is something that God's people are called to do. But do not be surprised if in the process the Lord uses these same people to change you. Our neighbors, coworkers, and relatives are not so much projects to be won, notches on our salvation belt, but people who are created in God's image and whose lives are in God's hands. They, too, may be his instruments for purposes we cannot fathom. It is his will to employ many facets of his creation for his sake and for his glory. (Exodus, NIVAC, p.76)

truth in timbre

Their conversation is like a gently wicked dance: sound meets sound, curtsies, shimmies, and retires. Another sound enters but is upstaged by still another: the two circle each other and stop. Sometimes their words move in lofty spirals; other times they take strident leaps, and all of it is punctuated with warm-pulsed laughter— like the throb of a heart made of jelly. The edge, the curl, the thrust of their emotions is always clear to Frieda and me. We do not, cannot, know the meanings of all their words, for we are nine and ten years old. So we watch their faces, their hands, their feet, and listen for truth in timbre.

[Toni Morrison, The Bluest Eye]

Ready to forgive

The perspective of Joseph on his sufferings at the hands of his brothers is quite stunning. When he reveals himself to them they are - well, gobsmacked might not be too much of a paraphrase. And terrified. But Jospeh immediately says to them,

"Do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you." (Gen. 45:5)

And, again, a moment or two later, he again affirms,

"God sent me ahead of you to preserve a remnant on earth and to save your lives by a great deliverance. So, then, it was not you who sent me here, but God." (Gen. 45:7-8)

After all the years in which bitterness could have made his heart an acrid, barren place, Joseph displays a breathtaking grasp of God's sovereign ways and a humble willingness to embrace God's purposes through his suffering and so to embrace his brothers in forgiving grace. And his readiness to forgive carved out for his brothers an opportunity to demonstrate repentance and so to receive that forgiveness.

All of which leads us, of course and with great power, to see afresh the glory of the submission and humility of our Lord Jesus on the cross. How deeply and joyously glad we can be for the words of Jesus, "Father, forgive them, they don't know what they're doing."

Make me, too, O Lord, a channel of your peace.

Where's Dan gone?

The sons of Jacob/Israel were Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Dan, Naphtali, Gad, Asher, Issachar, Zebulun, Jospeh and Benjamin. In Rev. 7:5-8 the same tribes are noted except that Dan is replaced by Manasseh, one of Joseph's sons. Significant? I don't suppose so. Interesting? Maybe.

learning how to receive

Slow down. Hold still.
It's not as if it's a matter of will.
Someone's circling. Someone's moving
a little lower than the angels.
And it's got nothing to do with me.
The wind blows through the trees,
but if I look for it, it won't come.
I tense up. My mind goes numb.
There's nothing harder than learning how to receive.

Calm down. Be still.
We've got plenty of time to kill.
No hand writing on the wall:
just the voice that's in us all.
And you're whispering to me,
time to get up off my hands and knees,
'cause if I beg for it, it won't come.
I find nothing but table crumbs.
My hands are empty. God I've been naive.

All I need is everything.
Inside, outside, feel new skin.
All I need is everything.
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again.

Slow down. Hold still.
It's not as if it's a matter of will.
Someone's circling. Someone's moving
a little lower than the angels.
This voice calling me to you:
it's just barely coming through.
Still, I clearly hear my name.
I've been fingering the flame
like tomorrow's martyr.
It gets harder to believe.

All I need is everything.
Inside, outside, feel new skin.
All I need is everything.
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again.

So from now till kingdom come,
taste the words on the tip of my tongue.
'Cause we can't run truth out of town,
only force it underground.
The roots grow deeper
in ways we can't conceive.

All I need is everything.
Inside, outside feel new skin.
All I need is everything.
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again.

All I need is all I need.

(All I Need Is Everything) - Over The Rhine

The biggest barriers

to effective evangelism according to the prayer of Jesus are not so much outdated methods, or inadequate presentations of the gospel, as realities like gossip, insensitivity, negative criticism, jealousy, backbiting, an unforgiving spirit, a 'root of bitterness', failure to appreciate others, self-preoccupation, greed, selfishness and every other form of lovelessness. These are the squalid enemies of effective evangelism which render the gospel fruitless and send countless thousands into eternity without a Saviour. 'The glorious gospel of the blessed God', which is committed to our trust, is being openly contradicted and veiled by the sinful relationships within the community which is commissioned to communicate it. We need look no further to understand why the church's impact on the community is frequently so minimal in spite of the greatness of our message. We are fighting with only one hand!

(Bruce Milne, The Message of John, IVP, pp.250,251)

The Church as Ordinary

Extracts from Against Christianity by Peter J. Leithart (Canon Press, 2003, pp.16-18)

Christian community...is not an extra "religious" layer on social life. The Church is not a club for religious people. The Church is a way of living together before God, a new way of being human together. What Jesus and the apostles proclaimed was not a new ideology or a new religion, in our attenuated modern sense. What they proclaimed was salvation, and that meant a new human world, a new social and political reality.

They proclaimed that God had established the eschatological order of human life in the midst of history, not perfectly but truly. The Church anticipates the form of the human race as it will be when it comes to maturity; she is the "already" of the new humanity that will be perfected in the "not yet" of the last day. Conversion thus means turning from one way of life, one culture, to another. Conversion is the beginning of a "resocialization," induction into an alternative paideia, and "inculturation" into the way of life practiced by the eschatological humanity.

In the New Testament, we do not find an essentially private gospel being applied to the public sphere, as if the public implications of the gospel were a second story built on the private ground floor. The gospel is the announcement of the Father's formation through His Son and the Spirit, of a new city the city of God...

We have made the Church strange and alien to the world, as if she were of a completely different order than the institutions of common social and political life. Paradoxically, the result of this estrangement has been to reshape the Church into the image of the world.

The Church is strange: she is the creation of the Father through Word and Spirit, the community of those who have been united by the Spirit with the Son, and therefore brought into the eternal community of the Trinity. She is a city whose town square is in heaven. She is a city without walls or boundary lines, a polity without sword or shield. Of no other society can that be said.

But she is ordinary: the Church is made up of human beings, with features that identify her as a culture among the cultures of the world. God did not enter a world of books with blurks; He did not intervene in a world of rituals and meals with spatuals and gleals; He did not call His people to live according to specific quormal principles or to promote a particular uphos.

Rather, God created a world of stories, symbols, rituals, and community rules. Into this world of stories, God introduced a rival story; into a world of books, God came with His own library; in a world of symbols and rituals and sacrificial meals, the Church was organized by a ritual bath and a feast of bread and wine; in the midst of cultures with their own ethos and moral atmosphere, God gathered a community to produce the aroma of Christ in their life together.

Only by insisting on the Church's ordinariness can we simultaneously grasp her strangeness.

The Church can cut across the grain of existing human social and cultural life only if she bears some likeness to existing societies. If she is a completely different sort of thing, then societies and nations and empires can go on their merry way ignoring the Church, or, equally deadly, find some murky alleyway to push her into.

But if the Church is God's society among human societies, a heavenly city invading the earthly city, then a territorial conflict is inevitable...

The Ultimate Detox

Mark 7:14-30

Again Jesus called the crowd to him and said, "Listen to me, everyone, and understand this. Nothing outside you can defile you by going into you. Rather, it is what comes out of you that defiles you."

After he had left the crowd and entered the house, his disciples asked him about this parable. "Are you so dull?" he asked. "Don't you see that nothing that enters you from the outside can defile you? For it doesn't go into your heart but into your stomach, and then out of your body." (In saying this, Jesus declared all foods clean.)

He went on: "What comes out of you is what defiles you. For from within, out of your hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and defile you."

Jesus left that place and went to the vicinity of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it; yet he could not keep his presence secret. In fact, as soon as she heard about him, a woman whose little daughter was possessed by an unclean spirit came and fell at his feet. The woman was a Greek, born in Syrian Phoenicia. She begged Jesus to drive the demon out of her daughter.

"First let the children eat all they want," he told her, "for it is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to the dogs."

"Lord," she replied, "even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs."

Then he told her, "For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter."

She went home and found her child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.

(TNIV)

Why Jesus wants his people to be sanctified

It would seem an obvious point: Jesus wants his people to be sanctified, to be holy. Yes, quite so. In fact, he prays for just that in his great prayer in John 17:

Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world. For them I sanctify myself, that they too may be truly sanctified. (John 17:17-19;TNIV)

But what does Jesus have in mind?

He links the setting apart (sanctification) of his disciples with his own act of being set apart. So he made himself holy so that we too could be holy? I think the emphasis in these verses is working in a slightly different direction. Jesus set himself apart for the work of God in order to see people redeemed and reconciled to God. And he expressly states here that just as he had been sent into the world by the Father on that mission and responded by sanctifying himself, so too he is sending them into the world.

So why is Jesus praying that his people be set apart for God? In order that they might be enabled and equipped to fulfil their calling to go into all the world with the good news. Set apart and sent out; that's us.

And notice too the crucial role played by God's Word in that whole process. What is the work that scripture is to do in our lives? To make us more like Jesus? Yes, but not simply in terms of moral rectitude, integrity of character and so forth; rather, along with those, to be more like Jesus in our commitment to, and sacrificial outworking of, the great mission of God.

If Jesus prayed for that, it would be good if we did too.

indeed

if nothing else by Over The Rhine

i'm so tired in the mornings
i try to go back
i try to remember
the light appearing
without warning
tying up my hands
like i'm good for nothing

if nothing else i can dream
i can dream
i'll never tell never tell
all i've seen
right in front of me
like the ghost of every thing that i could be

for the night sky is an ocean
black distant sea
washing up to my window
all the stray dog night owl junkies
orphans vagabonds
angels who lost their halos

if nothing else i can dream
i can dream
i'll never tell never tell
all i've seen
right in front of me,
like the ghost of every thing that i could be
in the cool and callous grip of reality

words in my head
like misfits after midnight
begging for a light
words left unsaid
they may never see the light of day
and that may be okay

if nothing else i can dream

There are times

...when time has a way of catching-up on you, dropping hints that cannot aspire to subtlety, affirming what you suspected all along but were too scared to admit and too fragile to admire. Catch your breath, boy, this train is ready to leave.

just wondering

...if there is any connection between the triple-groaning of Romans 8 (creation; Christians; the Spirit) and the pains of childbearing of Genesis 3:16? If there was, maybe one could throw 1 Timothy 2:15 into the mix too. Clearly a job for someone more capable than me!

Days

These are the days
you never saw;
sun rises, sun sets
just as before,
but you have been laid
to rest,
never to rise
in a morning of time,
never to set
when a day is done.

These are the days
we never thought
you would
never
see.













In Memoriam: George Myerscough
(20th January 1920 - 30th November 2005)

Behind the question

In Luke 13:1-5, Jesus tells of two recent events in which people have suffered - first at the hands of murderous Pilate, secondly in the collapse of a tower in Siloam. In speaking of those events, Jesus asks the question, Were those who died worse sinners than other people?

There is an assumption behind the question that is clearly shared by both Jesus and his hearers: God is somehow involved in both situations, for the question of judgement revolves around him. Jesus knew, and his contemporaries knew, that judgement rests in the hand of God alone. If these acts were by way of judgement (and the text begs the response 'yes, in some way'), then God is involved.

The key issue for Jesus' hearers, made plain by Jesus himself, is whether they will learn and repent. It is the same issue that arises in Rev. 9:20f.

The same issues are not absent from life in this world today.

Wright on...

"If Jesus is...the lens through which you glimpse the beauty of God, you will discover what it means to worship, because you will discover what it means to be loved." Tom Wright, For All God's Worth, p.10

Esteeming our friends

Sometimes it can be hard for missionaries and other Christian workers to speak about their work because they fear being 'put on a pedestal', albeit unwittingly. People can speak about them in such glowing terms - "I could never do what you do!"; "You've given so much to the Lord" - that they feel slightly embarrassed, because their own estimate of themselves and their work is far more realistic. They know that, at the end of the day, whatever they have given to the Lord, they are, at best, 'unprofitable servants'. They are conscious that so much more could have been done and done better.

This can easily lead to another problem, however. Knowing that commending someone for their service may embarrass them or, worse still, may puff them up with pride, nothing is said at all. That can leave a person feeling discouraged, taken for granted and unvalued.

Is there a better way? Reading the New Testament, it seems there must be, because there we find people being commended for their service in a way that is open and natural. Just look for example at Romans 16 where Paul mentions a whole host of individuals, many of whom would no doubt have been present when the letter was read to the church: "Mary...worked very hard for you; Andronicus and Junius...are outstanding among the apostles; Apelles, tested and approved in Christ".

From those examples, it's quite clear that to commend others we don't need to become skilled diplomats, able to find just the right form of words to cover every angle. You know the sort of thing, 'Thank you for what you've done...I mean, what the Lord has done through you'. It doesn't read like that, does it? Paul just says what he thinks, with warmth and honesty. He's not in the business of flattery but is simply acknowledging what is good and blessed.

How could he and others be so straightforward? We seem at times to be very different, with so many hang-ups! Maybe it was because they were resting in a relationship with the Lord which was patently secure because it was so obviously based on his grace alone. When Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15:10 of his having "worked harder than all" the other apostles, it could seem as though he was boasting. Rather, he's simply making an honest assessment, yet without any pride on his part for he immediately adds "Yet not I but the grace of God that was with me".

When we grasp that we are loved by God not because of who we are or what we do but simply because of his grace, then we are freed to serve him and others without being hungry for praise that will dispel our insecurity and compensate for a lack of assurance. And within the security of God's love we discover how to praise others too, esteeming them highly in the Lord and valuing what they do for him. Our words of thanks and praise will neither embarrass nor exalt because they will carry the savour of the amazing grace of God.

More Jonah

Jonah. Somehow he seems to have ended up a bit of a hero but in truth he was much more a villain. Called to preach a message of judgement, he ran for cover - not out of cowardice but out of callousness. He wasn't scared by what the Ninevites might do to him but by what they might do with God's Word - believe it, repent and live. So he did a bunk.

We know the story very well. Jonah, the once-faithful prophet runs at the sound of God's voice and manages to sleep soundly when that same voice booms in the storm at sea. Hardened in his sin, he is even shown up by pagan sailors who have more sense of God than he seems to have. Finally, he owns up to his sin and is cast overboard. Chased and chastened.

It seems like he learns his lesson. Inside the great fish, sent by God not to punish but to deliver him, he prays with a full heart, acknowledging that "salvation comes from the Lord". And when he lands on shore, he responds with obedience when God's Word comes to him a second time and makes his way to Nineveh. Maybe he's not such a bad guy after all.

But wait. The job's not done yet. He goes to Nineveh, speaks God's Word and, instead of having him for dinner, they proclaim a fast and repent of their sins. A cause for great rejoicing - but not for this still-wayward prophet. He was where he should be in terms of geography but he is still miles away in terms of compassion and mercy. Instead he is wrapped up in his own small world of bitter complaint and anger against God. A real villain - still.

But are we really that different? Maybe not. We too easily run, too quickly argue, too often sulk. We may pray for opportunities to witness but are we really looking for them? Do we marginalise some people as being somehow unworthy of the gospel because of their blatant sin? Are we expecting the Lord to march to our tune instead of being captive to his will and purpose? I hang my head.

The book ends without really ending - and that is entirely intentional. How did he respond to the Lord's last word to him, which so powerfully disclosed the Lord's merciful heart? We aren't told. The really crucial thing now is not Jonah but us, the readers, us, the church. The book challenges our complacency, our bigotry, our lack of genuine love. "Look at the world, pleads the author, at God's world. See it through God's eyes. And let your new vision overcome your natural bitterness, your hardness of soul. Let the divine compassion flood your own hearts." (Leslie Allen)

Gone fishin'

It’s a striking scene – a miraculous catch of fish is followed by an unequivocal call: “Follow me and I will make you fishers of men” (Mt. 4:18-22; cf. Luke 5:1-11). Of course, there are aspects of the calling of the 12 disciples that are unique to them – in their role as authoritative eye-witnesses of the life and teaching of Jesus and his death, resurrection and ascension, they would have no successors. But it is also true that every disciple can learn much from this deeply moving scene.

The call to follow is entirely gracious. In Luke’s account, Simon Peter is acutely conscious of his sin and shame – he is so utterly unworthy of the One who stands before him. Yet the One before whom he bows speaks words which comfort, “Don’t be afraid”, and words which commission, “From now on you will catch men”. Being conscious of our sin and of the many ways in which we have failed our Lord and are still so unlike him does not disqualify us from following him. He speaks to dispel our fear and to call us into fresh service in his name.

The order here is interesting – it was in following that they were to become. They were to follow Jesus and learn from him. They needed to stay close and hang on his every word; they needed to make sure they paid the closest attention as they witnessed the powerful in-breaking of the Kingdom of God and were caught up in its progress. But whilst the responsibility to follow closely rests with the one called, the formation of that person is in the hands of the one who calls: “I will make you…”.

There is set in motion here a process that would lead into genuine maturity under the tutelage of the Saviour. But their discipleship was not simply an end in itself. Jesus calls them so that they might call others; he would make them able to disciple others, to be “fishers of men”. From the calling of Abraham onwards, through the election of Israel, the call of God was never simply for the sake of the one called but for the sake of the nations. The same is true of the church; Jesus said, “I have chosen you and appointed you to go and bear much fruit” (Jn. 15:16) – not simply the fruit of renewed lives but seeing the gospel reach and renew others too.

Discipleship is never simply about the maturing of individuals in isolation from the great task of mission. Rather, it is with mission as integral and essential, and at the very core of what it means to be a disciple.

And the call to follow and to become was given and heard in the context of an ordinary day, in the midst of ordinary lives. No doubt mission gatherings and conferences play a part in focussing thoughts and prayers and have often been used by the Lord to awaken a fresh sense of call. But we should also expect to become aware of the Lord calling us, and experience his forming of us, in the everyday events of life.

In that context, Jesus’ choice of metaphors here is interesting. In the New Testament, a whole variety of images are used to describe gospel workers – athletes, farmers, builders, shepherds, soldiers, parents, ambassadors; the list is very extensive. Here, Jesus calls fishermen to become…fishermen. What they had been would be taken up and become a part of what they would be. And still today he takes us where we are, as we are, in order to form and use us for his glory in the lives of others as we obey his call to follow him. Could anything be more thrilling?

How the Gospel helps us to Plan and Pray (Romans 15:23-33)

1. Planning
Studded throughout Paul’s letters are indications of the plans he made regarding his gospel work. The details he records are very interesting, not least because they show the impact the gospel has on our planning.

i) Practical – Hoping for their help when on his way to Spain; on his way to Jerusalem with monetary help from Macedonia and Achaia. Both are very practical details; the finer details do matter and there is a time & a place to sort then out (nb: seems Paul had no qualms in asking for material help, both for others and himself).

But notice that these practical details are determined by the gospel itself. It is because there is a message to share that Paul needs to be helped on his way; it is because the gospel creates a new family of God and unites Jew and Gentile that there needs to be practical and genuine expression of that new unity.

ii) Purposeful – Paul’s plans are very purposeful: he knows where he wants to go and why – “there is no more place for me to work in these regions”. Couldn’t he have found a pastorate somewhere and settled down? Of course! But his purpose is to extend the work, not to settle down.

Some (many?) must settle into a longer-term pattern of ministry but our mentality (whatever our particular Christian service might be) must always be expansive, because the gospel demands it, the very character and heart of God demands it. And if our mentality is expansive, it will, of necessity, affect our planning.

2. Praying
But if the gospel affects and determines our planning, the same is true about our praying. Planning and praying are to go hand in hand, whatever our temperament may be, and both are entailments of the gospel itself. The same gospel that impels us to plan also impels us to pray.

i) Joining the struggle – Paul here describes such prayer as joining with him in his struggle. We may find prayer hard and there may be many reasons for that but part of the reason is that it is a sharing in the reality of the spiritual warfare that is at the heart of the gospel. When the gospel is preached and lived, a cosmic struggle is joined. We may – we will – find it hard going but the call is to join the struggle.

ii) Two-fold struggle – But what is noticeable here is that the struggle operates on two fronts. Paul asks for prayer that he will be rescued from unbelievers; a quite natural request and a very realistic one, since wherever he went Paul encountered trouble.

That’s the nature of the gospel and the battle we’re involved in. The world as a whole is not ambivalent to the gospel; it is hostile to it, since the natural mind is hostile to God. The need for the same prayer still exists today; the struggle hasn’t changed.

But the second area of struggle is less expected yet still as much in need of prayer. Paul asks that his service will be acceptable to the saints in Jerusalem. The reasons aren’t hard to work out – such a gift, from Gentiles to Jews, might offend some people’s sensibilities and some proud hearts might need to be humbled.

Whatever the particular details, this request reminds us that because the gospel creates one new family we need to pray that the life of that new family will honour and reflect the nature of the one who has brought it into being. Still today there is a need to pray that suspicion will be removed and genuine love fostered among all God’s people, in whatever situations.

The gospel itself demands we plan as Paul did and pray as he requested. Methinks there is some work to be done.

So - why Spain?

That would be a very good question for potential missionaries (well, at least for those thinking of going to Spain). Might we be permitted to ask the same question of the Apostle Paul whose desire to travel to Spain is clearly stated in Romans 15:23ff?

What was driving his desire - the simple fact that the gospel had not yet reached those regions? No doubt. That the people there were in thrall to idols as much as any other nation and needed to hear the gospel of God’s grace? Of course. Yet it would be wrong to imagine that Paul’s plans sprang from a disinterested pragmatism – they were the distilled passion of a man eager to see Jesus honoured as Lord and for the nations to know the blessings of his reign. If Jesus has not been preached in Spain, Paul will go there to make him known.

But it may well be that Paul’s decision to go to Spain was not simply that it was the first – or even the best – place he came upon where the gospel was unknown. He made plain in Romans that his gospel centres on the reality that Jesus is Lord, that “our God reigns”; in that light, Paul may have felt his desire to go to Spain was scripturally mandated by Psalm 72, the great celebration of the Messiah’s reign and the blessing of the nations in him.

Psalm 72:10 tells us that “the kings…of distant shores will bring tribute to him” and Spain was, indeed, relatively distant. But it may be even more specific than that: verse 10, in full, speaks of “The kings of Tarshish”. Where was Tarshish? The question has not been settled with complete certainty but, in all likelihood, it was a reference to Spain.

Paul longed to bring people to the obedience of faith to King Jesus. Psalm 72 says that the kings of Spain will be among them – and Paul takes note and makes his plans to go there – yes, because it is unreached but also because he wants with all his heart to fulfil the mandate of his Lord.

But all the evidence (or perhaps the lack of it) suggests that Paul never in fact got there. The desire to go was right and good; it was both sensible and scriptural. Yet in the purposes of God it seems Paul was not the one to take the gospel there. So was his desire misplaced and his efforts wasted?

Not in God’s hands, for the desire to go to Spain and the need to pass through Rome called forth the letter to the Romans, a letter that has been used by God at critical times in the church’s history and has been a blessing to untold numbers through the centuries.

Your desire may be to go where the gospel is not known; you may even feel that the call to go is scripturally mandated – and yet the way has not opened up. Were you wrong to have that desire? Was your reading of scripture mistaken? Not necessarily; but the Lord of the harvest works out his plans as he sees fit. And he will not waste that desire – it may have resulted in fervent prayer for places you might never have prayed for; your evident concern for those who have never heard may have deeply moved others who now serve the Lord in just such a place; your discussions with others about your sense of call may have caused them to lay aside their factionalism in order to focus more clearly on the gospel.

Who knows how the Lord may have used what was a right desire and one based squarely upon scripture? What we can be sure of is that he will have used it – and your story is not done with yet; so “never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervour, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer” (Rom. 12:11,12).